Two hours and some floundering conversation later, he dropped me off at my building’s front doors just as the daily evening foot traffic was picking up and cars were heading home for the night. It had been an okay date, and I was relieved that I had fulfilled my end of the bargain.
“So, can I walk you up?” He was smiling, all ready to do just that.
But I wasn’t going for that one. I had to think on my feet since he had the “hope” look in his eyes. “Thanks, but I just want to head up, get ready for tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? What’s going on?”
Oops. “I’m starting at The Stage, downtown off Fourth. New job, you know—get some rest, that sort of thing.” I pointed to my injured hand. God, that sounds so lame, even to me.
“Wow, there? Really? I heard it’s off the hook. Maybe I’ll see you there.”
Great, a groupie. Well, it could be worse, right? “‘Night, Chase, thanks again,” I said. He tried to hug me but I rolled right out of his reach, smiling awkwardly.
The next day Ashleigh introduced me to the rest of the staff, pretty much all young college kids, plus slightly older security guys—which made me feel a bit safer. The club was wicked awesome. Not only had Ashleigh taken a rundown warehouse and turned it into a bar, it seemed alive with the pulse of music. What had been a broken-down, three-story wreck was now three tiers of dance floors, with hot neon surrounding the walls. Strategic dance poles and cages were placed throughout and crystals were inlaid in the floor, stair railings, and ceiling fan blades.
“Ash, this place is awesome! I thought the city was dragging on the permits?” I asked over the pumping bass line of the DJ, who was practicing for the next night’s grand opening.
“It’s not what you know, darling, it’s who you know that counts!” she said, winking her extra-long eyelashes at me.
I quickly learned how to maneuver around the deep-seated lounge chairs, just big enough for two people, while I helped stock the many levels. I loved the color scheme of black, deep sea blue, and blood red—my personal favorite. When we were finished, Ash pulled me into her office for what I assumed would be some new hire stuff, but I was way off. Instead, she reached into her Chanel bag and handed me a small box.
“I wanted to thank you for helping out so much in preparation for the grand opening. And don’t fight me on this. You seriously lack jewelry—and you know it. You shouldn’t wait around for Mr. Right to give you some.”
I did my best not to roll my eyes as I opened it. Nestled inside the black satin was a beautiful heart-shaped sapphire pendant on a silver rope necklace. She knew me well. I had a soft spot for heart-shaped anything because of my mom, who had collected them for years.
“Okay, I admit it. I like it, but Ash, you know this is too expensive. You’ve already helped me out by giving me this job.”
“What are friends for, if not to spoil each other once in a while? Besides, I’d love it if you wore this tomorrow for the opening. And by the way, my partner will be here, so you’ll finally get to meet him. And trust me when I say you’ll be glad you did!”
She was in guy-pushing mode again, but in this case, I wasn’t too worried. It never seemed to fail that whenever I came around, he’d just left or vice-versa. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear this guy was total fiction. “All right, I’ll wear it, just go easy on throwing the guys at me, okay? I’m just not into dating right now. Soon, I promise.”
She rolled her eyes as I held my breath, waiting for some smart-ass comment to come out. Instead, she just hugged me and said “Soon is right!” Then we headed down to take one last look around, making sure the place was stocked and ready for the massive grand opening.
The next night was chaos, but controlled chaos. Ashleigh and I rolled up together in a black stretch limo—she had insisted that I arrive with her. We were right on cue—which actually meant she was running on drag time, at least thirty minutes late. She wasn’t kidding about the press coverage, either. Reporters from The Seattle Times, The Weekly, The Stranger, Entertainment Weekly, and People magazine, to name a few, were lined up out front with video and audio support to boot. Flash bulbs were going off like strobe lights. How she planned to walk through the throngs of people while talking and posing was beyond my comprehension. As for me, my plan was to dash for the side door when we pulled up.
“I have another surprise for you!” she said as we pulled slowly up to the curb. She had that Cheshire cat look of mischievousness.
“What did you do, Ash?” I was not big on surprises, and she knew it.
“Oh, I just happened to nail down a local band that has agreed to play the club… exclusively!”
She knew I was a sucker for new local music, so of course I was eager to find out more. “All right, I’ll forgive you if you tell me now—before we walk out into that mess.” I pointed out the window.
“Sorry! You’ll have to wait until we get inside—and you’ll never guess who the lead singer is.”
As soon as we got out of the limo we were mobbed by reporters, and my plan for escape via the side door was thwarted. With the flash of the cameras blinding our eyes, Ashleigh worked her way up slowly to the frosted, main double doors to make her entrance—with me in tow. The place was packed; wall-to-wall with bodies pumping and grinding to the DJ’s mix. Looking up across the dance floor, I spotted the main stage set up for whoever the band was. The bass and keyboards shimmered in the strobe lights, and while I was impressed by the size of the drum set, the instruments taunted me because there were no markings for the name of the band. So I still had no idea who would be entertaining us for the night.
“Have fun, darlin’! That’s what tonight’s all about!” Ashleigh said as she pecked my cheek before heading off to schmooze with the social climbers and the paparazzi.
I shook my head and fought my way through the crowds to the bar. “Ian, toss me that tray, will you?” I said when I finally edged in.
Ian was the blond-haired, blue-eyed Adonis who worked the main bar. He was perfect eye candy, if you were into that kind of thing. He liked to say that he served his drinks fast and hard—just like him. He loved being the center of attention… and it worked in his favor.
“Hey, gorgeous! You clean up well,” he said.
I quickly looked down to check my outfit, forgetting that Ash had dressed me. Across my somewhat less-than-endowed chest was the bar logo in blood-red ink on a micro tank top, skimming a pair of skin-tight black leather pants that were cutting off my circulation—as were the black platform shoes that she had forced onto my feet.
“Uh, thanks.” I felt a bit exposed but I figured it might help in the tip department, so I chose to strut. “What can I say, opening night only happens once, right?” I winked as he loaded my tray up with our signature drink, Blood Orange Sunset—which we were offering up free for tonight.
“Work it, girlfriend!” he said as he turned back to what looked like his own set of groupies. Baby-doll twin blondes sat there, mesmerized by his every word and movement. There was something a bit odd about them, but this is Seattle; we come in all shapes, sizes—and kinds.
After I had passed out five or six trays of free drinks, Ash found me. “Come with me—now!” she said. She had that giddy schoolgirl look about her as she dragged me backstage, carefully leading me across all the wires. Without her, I probably would’ve tripped.
The DJ’s music slowed as she made a glorious entrance into the spotlight. I hid well into the shadows but still enjoyed the excitement. “Good evening, everyone! Thank you so much for coming and enjoying The Stage—it’s all for you!” She waved the crowd into a frenzy, and the cheers and hollers rose to ear-piercing levels.
“And now… for your entertainment, may I present to you our house band. This Northwest group has signed an exclusive contract with yours truly. Everyone, give it up for… The Darkness!”
The screams went
off the meter. Holy hell! She’s nailed down the hottest underground band since Kurt Cobain and Nirvana. She strutted back to where I was standing, smiling from ear to ear. I was beyond shocked—and she knew it.
Bass line… that’s all I could feel as the fog machines kicked in. I couldn’t hear anything at first because the screams were still so loud. Then the keyboards added their haunting melody, followed by the drums, which escalated the frenzy to the next level. I could barely make out the movement of the band members on stage. I had never seen them play before, but I had heard their music. The notes reached a frantic pitch of crazed intensity and then the spotlight—which was a black light—began to grow on all the members. With a fevered rush, the black light exploded and they were all revealed.
The crowd quickly became mesmerized… as did I. Right in front of the stage the lead singer stood, just teasing the audience. But this was no ordinary lead singer. He was an archangel capable of seducing the masses, with black leather pants that were so tight they looked like they were painted on. His white shirt billowed open, revealing his chiseled chest and upper pelvis.
“Holy crap, Ash! Who the hell is that?” I asked as she pulled me back from walking out onto the stage itself—which was so not like me.
“I take it you like what you see?” she said teasingly as the music took off.
“No, I’m being sarcastic—what do you think?” I stood there watching, amazed by how he prowled the stage, back and forth, just out of reach of the eager fans who were screaming for him. I found myself singing along, surprised to find that I knew the songs by heart. The lyrics pulled at something inside, something that had long been dormant. I had a hard time taking my eyes off of him—but then, who wouldn’t?
As I continued to gawk at him shamelessly, he turned in slow-motion toward the wings where I was standing and his eyes met mine. The light was so bright that I had a hard time seeing him at first. His torso was glistening with sweat, and his chiseled features were exact; rugged and uneven, yet perfect. But it was his eyes that held me—even from this distance, the dark sapphire-blue color was astonishing.
“I see you… yet do you see me?” he sang, holding my gaze for what seemed like minutes. I tried to pull my eyes away; there was something strangely and frighteningly familiar about those eyes. At last he turned his sights back on the crowd and I almost lost my balance as I was swallowed by the dark offstage area.
“Megan, are you all right?” Ashleigh asked as I steadied myself. I’d forgotten that she was with me.
“Yeah, I better get back out on the floor. Those bills won’t pay themselves—and I have a tyrant for a boss, remember?” I joked, trying to throw off the attention.
“Get to work then, darling! I’ll find you soon.” She waved me away as she turned back to enjoy the show.
The band’s songs blended from one to another throughout the first set. I tried my best not to get distracted by the show or the throbbing pain in my hand from the heavy trays I’d been carrying. The pain meds were playing tricks with my head, too, and I wished that I hadn’t taken them. All the while I worked, I had this uneasy feeling I was being watched.
When the band finally took a break between sets, the DJ started right in without missing a beat, and I saw a chance to get a quick break in. “Ian, I gotta get more stock. I’ll be right back,” I called over the music.
“Sure thing. Remember where the stock room is? Way in the back?”
“Yep, got it.” I made my way back, stumbling over my own two feet and literally running into a few people along the way. I finally reached the storeroom and escaped inside. A dim emergency light had turned on when I opened the door, but when I reached for the main light switch, no light came on. With only murky lighting coming from the exit sign which was directly over the door I had just entered, I went to open the door, but no such luck. It was locked from the outside. What the hell? Who puts a reverse lock on a storeroom door?
“Help!” I yelled and pounded on the door, but no one could hear me over the music. I quickly realized that I was locked in a room that smelled of old dust and cobwebs, had barely any light—and there was no way out.
I closed my eyes, willing the rising panic to stop, but it didn’t help. When I was four years old, I used to wander through our wooded property in Puyallup, where I grew up. For hours I walked with my dog, Toto. One day, he darted into a cave, and being a curious little kid, I followed him. After we had been walking for some time, I heard moans and groans coming from deeper inside. I turned to run out, not knowing which direction to go, and the cave floor collapsed and dropped me down into a pit of darkness.
I didn’t want to relive that memory, but the fear factor was quickly freaking me out. I kicked, screamed, and pounded at the door to no avail. “Damn it!” I swore out loud. I was so close yet so far away. I could hear the music, but no one could hear me. This can’t be happening. No! I slammed my fist in frustration on the side of an old shelving unit, and then screamed out loud in pain. I looked down at my hand and realized that the sutures had burst open because blood was flowing all over. Anyone else’s blood I could handle, but not my own. I whipped off my apron and wrapped my hand up the best I could.
Then I noticed that the shelving unit had moved aside, and I was looking down a wooden staircase. WTF? I stretched out my other hand and felt for a railing. When I found it, it was smooth to the touch, as though worn from years and years of use. I gripped it tightly and stepped down carefully to the first riser. Now hold on. I was leaving a musty room, heading down a secret set of stairs with a worn railing… Something was definitely not right, but what choice did I have? It was the only exit I had.
I descended slowly, trying to adjust my eyes to the nearly black walls, going by instinct. As I descended, I caught a whiff of fresh air with the scent of Puget Sound, like saltwater. Finally the stairs ended at a landing of some sort. It seemed to be quite wide with a dark slate floor, and the DJ’s music was just as loud here as it had been upstairs. To my left was a dimly lit open bar area, with a tray of drinks ready for delivery and a stack of bar towels next to it. Coats were hanging on hooks to the right, neatly arranged in groups. Tables, chairs, and cushions in the same color scheme as upstairs decorated the huge open space.
What had I found? Ash didn’t say anything about a lower level… yet no one was here. Well, no one I could see, but I could sense something—or someone—was definitely here with me.
I closed my eyes and concentrated, trying to get a grip on my senses, but when I opened my eyes everything was still there. I started walking again, rounded a corner, and was hit with a blast of music from overhead. I looked up in amazement; I was directly underneath the crosshatched dance floor. The colors and movements of the bodies through the metal gridwork were overwhelming.
She’s a bit too brave for her own good, I heard a voice speak in my mind. I whipped around, still not seeing anyone, but I had clearly heard his words inside my head.
“Who are you?” I screamed. I started backing out the way I came when I literally ran into someone. I kept my eyes closed, afraid of what might happen next. I felt the air move across my arms as the person slowly turned me around.
“Everyone leave us… now!”
I recognized his voice, and it spoke with authority. I could barely make out the sound of fabric moving, the slight murmur of whispered, rushed voices.
“Her hand—it’s bleeding,” a female voice spoke, and I recognized it as well.
Oh, my God. The voices from the hospital. My fear reached a breaking point. I put my hands up, trying to step back from him, but his cool hands were resting firmly on my shoulders and I couldn’t move. I moved my hands down and touched his bare chest, wet, slick, and cold as ice. I should have been terrified, but there was something familiar about all this—his scent, his skin… God, I’m going crazy.
“Megan, let me take care of that,” he said, taking my hand carefu
lly, and I finally opened my eyes to see who my captor was. I couldn’t make out his features clearly but one thing stood out. His eyes… the deep blue sapphire eyes of the lead singer I had just been ogling… the same eyes as the guy from The Q, just moments before the explosion.
I was frozen in shock. The keyboardist from the band—the girl whose voice I knew—took my hand and wrapped it in a clean bar towel. The look on her face was gentle compassion; his expression was a dark, almost tormented, restraint.
“There, is that better?” she asked.
My mouth was too dry to speak. I just nodded my head and backed away slowly, then managed to squeak out a question. “Who are you?” I asked, trying to leave, to find my way back to reality, up the stairs to safety. I had nothing with me to defend myself, and there was something about him that made my skin crawl. Yet in his eyes I could see kindness.
“I’m Geoffrey. Geoffrey Drake.”
Chapter 4
My hand was painful beyond belief and my brain was racing in too many directions. “Who?” I asked again, still in a slight state of panic. He said his name again, but I wasn’t able to process it. I was standing dazed in front of both of them, and the music overhead began to disorient me to the point of confusion.
No, I won’t let this happen. I can handle this… I have to handle this.
“Um… I gotta go back upstairs, sorry for interrupting… this,” I said, waving around whatever this downstairs bar was. They looked at each other quickly, and then back at me with a calculating look. The man stared at me intensely for a moment, and for some reason I felt a sense of calm wash over me.
No, this is fake. He’s trying to convince me…
“Megan, let us help you. You seem a little dizzy… confused, perhaps?” His words conveyed a strange combination of suggestion and caring. I stumbled slightly as I reached behind me to the railing. They both stretched out their hands to steady me, but I cringed.
The Stage Page 3